Chapter 22 - Reeyan #2
“Mother—” Caelan starts, but Maude cuts her off.
“Don’t. I’ve said my piece to Sera already. She knows how I feel about this choice.” Maude turns away. “Let’s get this over with.”
Jorran follows his wife without a word. Caelan lingers, looking apologetic.
“She’s scared. The idea that we’ve been cursed our whole lives and didn’t know it—that’s terrifying for someone who’s built their entire identity around control and independence.”
“I understand.” And I do, even if Maude’s hostility stings more than it should. “What about you? How are you handling it?”
Caelan’s face gives way to something thoughtful. “I want to know if what Sera says is true. Suppose there’s more to feeling than what we’ve been taught. If the curse breaks and I can finally understand what everyone else experiences…” she trails off. “That would be worth the risk.”
“It will break,” I declare with complete confidence. “Sera’s strong enough.”
“I know she is. Just make sure you’re strong enough to stand beside her without trying to control everything.”
The warning is clear. Sera’s sister will be watching. Making sure I keep my word about respecting her choices.
“I won’t let her down again.”
“Good. Because if you do, you’ll answer to me.” Caelan walks away to join the other Llewelyn wolves, leaving me standing there with the weight of her threat and her trust balanced in equal measure.
The ceremony space fills slowly. Grayhide pack members arrive and take positions around the outer perimeter.
Ambersky representatives join via the video feed Dorian set up.
Even a few wolves from other territories show up to witness—news travels fast when you’re attempting to break a three-hundred-year-old curse.
Evangeline finishes her preparations and signals that we’re ready to begin. I take my position in the center of the ritual space and try to ignore the hostile Thornridge scents growing stronger at the borders.
They’re coming. Just a matter of when.
Lydia steps forward to address the gathering. “We are here to witness the mating of Sera Thornwick and Reeyan Hale. Before we proceed, I must ask my niece if this is truly her choice. Sera, do you enter this bond willingly?”
Movement near the northern entrance draws my attention. Sera walks toward the ceremony space with Raegan at her side. She’s wearing a simple white dress that flows around her legs, and her silver-blonde hair loose over her shoulders in little ringlets. The sight of her steals my breath.
She’s beautiful. Terrifying. Mine.
Sera stops beside me and faces her aunt. “I do this willingly. Not just for myself, but for every woman in our pack who deserves to feel without magical chains wrapped around their hearts.”
The words ripple through the Llewelyn delegation. Confusion crosses several faces. Others look skeptical. Lydia’s expression remains carefully neutral.
“Explain what you mean by magical chains. While I have told a few within the inner circle, many are unaware of why we’re here today. This is your news to tell.”
Sera takes my hand, and the mate bond flares between us. Strength flows through the connection, her courage bolstering my own resolve.
“Three hundred years ago, our ancestors commissioned what they believed was protective magic. But a witch named Moira Ashwood wove revenge into that protection. She cursed Llewelyn women with emotional suppression. Made us unable to form deep bonds or trust easily. What we’ve been taught is that cultural strength is actually magical imprisonment. ”
The gathering erupts. Multiple Llewelyn wolves speak at once, their voices overlapping in a chaos of denial and confusion. Maude pushes to the front of the crowd.
“This is absurd. Our way of life doesn’t need fixing by outsiders who don’t understand our values.”
Sera’s voice carries over the noise. “It’s not about fixing your values. It’s about freeing you from magic that’s been suppressing your ability to choose what you value in the first place. The curse makes you think emotional distance is strength. It’s not. It’s a cage.”
Thora Silvermane steps forward, her face twisted with anger. “You’re betraying everything Llewelyn stands for by submitting to a mate bond with this Grayhide wolf. By claiming we need rescue from our own traditions.”
“I’m claiming you deserve the right to feel everything without magical interference.
To choose whether you want connection or solitude, passion or peace.
The curse takes that choice away.” Sera’s grip on my hand becomes almost painful.
“I’m breaking it so future generations can actually choose their own paths. ”
“And if we don’t want it broken?” Thora demands. “If we’re content with our lives as they are?”
“Then you’re content living as shells of what you could be. Content letting fear of feeling control your entire existence.” Sera’s voice breaks as she adds, “I’m not content with that. Not anymore.”
She looks at her mother, at Thora, at the other Llewelyn women who stand with arms crossed and faces closed. I feel her grief through the bond—grief for what could have happened if things had gone differently.
"If I had told you about the vision before I left, before I had evidence. Before I had allies. You would have stopped me. You would’ve convinced yourselves you were protecting me while the curse used your love as a weapon to keep itself alive."
Maude's face goes pale. "That's not—"
"It is." Sera's voice doesn't waver. "The curse would have used your love against us all. Against every woman who comes after us. And you wouldn't have known. You would have believed you were saving me right up until the moment you destroyed our only chance at freedom."
The words land like stones in still water. Several Llewelyn women look stricken. Others appear angry. But a few—including Caelan—nod slowly, understanding dawning on their faces.
Caelan moves through the crowd to stand beside her sister. “I want to know what she’s describing. I want to feel things without the dampening effect I’ve noticed my whole life. If there’s more than this muted existence we’ve accepted as normal, I deserve the chance to experience it.”
Other Llewelyn women voice their agreement. Not all of them, but enough. The delegation fractures into those who believe and those who insist their emotional reserve is cultural pride rather than magical binding.
Lydia raises one hand, and silence falls. “Sera. Is breaking this curse why you agreed to this mating?”
“Partly. But not entirely.” Sera looks at me, and something in her eyes makes something behind my sternum ache. “The mate bond is real. What I feel for Reeyan is real. And I’m choosing him despite the curse, trying to convince me that needing someone makes me weak.”
“Then we proceed.” Lydia steps back. “Evangeline, begin the ceremony.”
The Hysopp witch moves to the center of the ritual space. Power radiates from her so strongly that I can feel it against my skin. She begins speaking in a language I don’t understand, and the air around us seems to thicken with magic.
I try to focus on Sera rather than the hostile scents growing stronger at the borders. Try to remember that we’re here for her, for her pack, to break a curse that’s stolen three hundred years of freedom.
But my wolf remains alert. Waiting. Knowing that any moment now, everything could fall apart.
Evangeline’s voice rises, and the ceremony begins.